Despite her fear of horses something about the smell of the stable calmed her somewhat. She struggled when she tried to place the feeling and where it came from. She could barely remember the stable at her parents' home and when she tried to think too hard about it it gave her a maddening headache so she tried to avoid thinking about it too much. Alyvia knew this fondness for the setting made no sense. Her first memory was that of being thrown by a horse. She largely blamed that fall for not only her fear of horses and the swaths of memories before Orlais being fuzzy and vague.
She remembered feeling lonely. She was a daughter and in a poor noble family she was just another mouth to feed and body to dress. Her three older brothers wanted nothing to do with her. Her father barely even remembered she existed. Her mother only spoke to her to criticize her appearance. She was too skinny, too bedraggled, too mouthy, too ugly, and in one particular fit of rage had told her out of all her children she wished Alyvia had died in infancy. Alyvia remembered spending most of her time outside of her family home somewhere else. She hadn’t stepped foot on her family’s lands in decades and had no intentions of doing so. Last she remembered it was in the hands of her second oldest brother after the eldest had died at Ostegar during the Fifth Blight.
Her parents had all but sold her to a man twice her age who happened to be a well-known Orliesian Baron. Arlange didn’t love her either. He was not the first to have her. She couldn’t remember her eldest son’s father, but she knew it wasn’t her late husband. That was somewhat of a reassuring fault even if she was sure her son’s father must not have cared for her either. She was probably just a notch on his belt. At least, that was the only thing that made sense. No one but her children had ever shown her love in her life. She worried often for Raphael His dedication to her had him by her side constantly, even now that they were away from Orlais and the threats there. She encouraged him often to build a life of his own in Ferelden.
She tried her hardest to make sure her children never knew the loneliness she had as a child. Arlange made it hard. Constantly pushing her to let their elven nanny handle child rearing as he wanted her by his side at all times, within his sights and grasp, his prized possession and favorite trophy. She fought him on this when necessary and manipulated him with the only thing she had to offer otherwise. It worked. She’d been able to be a mother to her three eldest children and as far as she was concerned it was worth every sacrifice she’d suffered otherwise.
She scooped up the child below her and gathered her in her arms. Carina never had to suffer any of that of course. She’d just missed her cycle when something snapped in her. She didn’t remember what had caused the snap, why he’d gone from leaving her be for months to slapping her around. She knew being pregnant had been part of the reason she’d buried her dagger in his ribs.
The white-blonde curls and bright blue eyes of the girl, who was currently shrunk into her side at the large horses’ approach, told her this child was not her late husband’s either but she could be damned if she remembered the event of her conception. Those few months of her husband’s disinterest were also a blur, something she believed had to have been caused by heavy drinking.
It didn’t matter now. Nothing that happened in Orlais mattered. Arlange was dead and she wasn’t a baroness anymore. She wasn’t sure what to do next. She had no skills that could provide for her children and even though Raphael, Marie, and even Marjorie were old enough to take care of themselves she felt responsible for them and hated this feeling of freeloading off of the Grey Wardens.
How they had ended up here was a bit of a mystery to her. She remembered the Darkspawn overtaking the city and trying to figure out how she was going to get her children to safety. She remembered Raphael dragging her to the rooftop where there was a Grey Warden on a Griffin like in the stories of old. They brought her family here to safety. She didn’t know why she’d warranted this rescue and after some deliberation on letting him take her children while she stayed behind with her people. It was Raphael and the Warden that convinced her to leave.
As if summoned by her thoughts of that day the Warden in question approached them to calm the nearby horse. She listened to his words, and watched him with the horse. He was handsome and a spark of yearning built in her abdomen. ”I don’t know much about horses at all, I’m afraid. She loves them though this is the closest I’ve brought her to them. Her brother usually indulges this,” She said, adjusting the toddler on her hip. Carina reached out towards the horse as it calmed, her crystal blue eyes alight with the excitement that she might get to touch one of the animals.
”Howse!” the toddler said, almost leaping out of Alyvia’s arms and towards Ragnar’s in an attempt to get closer. The woman gasped and tried her hardest to keep ahold of the toddler so she didn’t fall.
She remembered feeling lonely. She was a daughter and in a poor noble family she was just another mouth to feed and body to dress. Her three older brothers wanted nothing to do with her. Her father barely even remembered she existed. Her mother only spoke to her to criticize her appearance. She was too skinny, too bedraggled, too mouthy, too ugly, and in one particular fit of rage had told her out of all her children she wished Alyvia had died in infancy. Alyvia remembered spending most of her time outside of her family home somewhere else. She hadn’t stepped foot on her family’s lands in decades and had no intentions of doing so. Last she remembered it was in the hands of her second oldest brother after the eldest had died at Ostegar during the Fifth Blight.
Her parents had all but sold her to a man twice her age who happened to be a well-known Orliesian Baron. Arlange didn’t love her either. He was not the first to have her. She couldn’t remember her eldest son’s father, but she knew it wasn’t her late husband. That was somewhat of a reassuring fault even if she was sure her son’s father must not have cared for her either. She was probably just a notch on his belt. At least, that was the only thing that made sense. No one but her children had ever shown her love in her life. She worried often for Raphael His dedication to her had him by her side constantly, even now that they were away from Orlais and the threats there. She encouraged him often to build a life of his own in Ferelden.
She tried her hardest to make sure her children never knew the loneliness she had as a child. Arlange made it hard. Constantly pushing her to let their elven nanny handle child rearing as he wanted her by his side at all times, within his sights and grasp, his prized possession and favorite trophy. She fought him on this when necessary and manipulated him with the only thing she had to offer otherwise. It worked. She’d been able to be a mother to her three eldest children and as far as she was concerned it was worth every sacrifice she’d suffered otherwise.
She scooped up the child below her and gathered her in her arms. Carina never had to suffer any of that of course. She’d just missed her cycle when something snapped in her. She didn’t remember what had caused the snap, why he’d gone from leaving her be for months to slapping her around. She knew being pregnant had been part of the reason she’d buried her dagger in his ribs.
The white-blonde curls and bright blue eyes of the girl, who was currently shrunk into her side at the large horses’ approach, told her this child was not her late husband’s either but she could be damned if she remembered the event of her conception. Those few months of her husband’s disinterest were also a blur, something she believed had to have been caused by heavy drinking.
It didn’t matter now. Nothing that happened in Orlais mattered. Arlange was dead and she wasn’t a baroness anymore. She wasn’t sure what to do next. She had no skills that could provide for her children and even though Raphael, Marie, and even Marjorie were old enough to take care of themselves she felt responsible for them and hated this feeling of freeloading off of the Grey Wardens.
How they had ended up here was a bit of a mystery to her. She remembered the Darkspawn overtaking the city and trying to figure out how she was going to get her children to safety. She remembered Raphael dragging her to the rooftop where there was a Grey Warden on a Griffin like in the stories of old. They brought her family here to safety. She didn’t know why she’d warranted this rescue and after some deliberation on letting him take her children while she stayed behind with her people. It was Raphael and the Warden that convinced her to leave.
As if summoned by her thoughts of that day the Warden in question approached them to calm the nearby horse. She listened to his words, and watched him with the horse. He was handsome and a spark of yearning built in her abdomen. ”I don’t know much about horses at all, I’m afraid. She loves them though this is the closest I’ve brought her to them. Her brother usually indulges this,” She said, adjusting the toddler on her hip. Carina reached out towards the horse as it calmed, her crystal blue eyes alight with the excitement that she might get to touch one of the animals.
”Howse!” the toddler said, almost leaping out of Alyvia’s arms and towards Ragnar’s in an attempt to get closer. The woman gasped and tried her hardest to keep ahold of the toddler so she didn’t fall.
04-28-2023, 04:12 PM
